twenty-six equals one hundred

Twenty-six replies.

One hundred dollars.

I, and the PATH rotavirus vaccine program, thank you. You all rock.

Contribute Receipt
Total: $100.00
Thank you for your support!


think james blunt is interested?


What is your sexual appeal?

Big thanks to Ms. Salty for giving me something to do that isn't refereeing the Lemonette's latest squabble. It was fun, but now the youngest Lemon appears to be tethered to the Mutt. The price of entertainment these days...yeesh.


not your average bug

This? Is rotavirus. You're thinking ewwwww right now, huh? I don't blame you.

If you've been keeping up with this self-indulgent corner of the blog world, you know that Lemony Villa has not been a fun place to visit, let alone live, for about a month now. There have been doctor's visits and blood tests. PEE IN THE CUP!! visits. Things deposited in Tupperware and cultured visits.

Ewwwwwwww, you say, I don't need to know these things. Believe me, I hear ya.

After much deliberation and consultation with lab-type people, the pediatrician we've been lucky enough to not see much of over the years finally came up with a diagnosis...and there it is, the little bastard, right there for your viewing pleasure. Hey, be grateful you only have to look at it. We've had to live with it, and trust me, it's even uglier when you can't see it because it's hiding in your intenstines.


I did a bit of reading once we had the diagnosis. I wanted to know how we caught it, how I could make the sickest of the sick more comfortable, and how to avoid getting it again. I also wanted to see how other parents coped with this, because when I say this is the sickest I have ever seen my family in fifteen years I'm not kidding, and Mr. Lemony and I were just a wee bit stressed out.

What I learned was staggering. Like this:

The proportion of deaths in children [less than or equal to] 5 years of age attributable to diarrhea demonstrated a declining trend with increasing income level; the median proportion for low-income countries was 21%; for low-middle income countries, 17%; for high-middle income countries, 9%; and for high-income countries, 1%.

And this:

An estimated 1,205 children die from rotavirus disease each day, and 82% of these deaths occur in children in the poorest countries.

So but for a stroke of fate, my kids are in the 1% and not the 21%. Because we have access to clean water, Pedialyte pops, hot running water and chlorine-based disinfectants, not to mention reliable medical care, we get to live to tell the horror story that is rotavirus infection. I am extraordinarily grateful...and extraordinarily sad. Children are dying from what basically amounts to nothing more than a bad case of diarrhea. One-thousand, two-hundred and five of them every day.

Holy hell, man.

I've lived through some pretty unpleasant things in my life. I lost a childhood to drug addiction and a beloved friend to another bastard of a virus. But I have never lost a child to something as simple as diarrhea, and the odds are I never will.

With that in mind I've decided I have to do what I can for the kids who have parents without the odds in their favor. And so, for every comment I get to this post, I will give a dollar, rounding up to the nearest hundred, (one comment per person, please...we're Lemons, not Gates) to PATH and their rotavirus vaccine program. One-thousand, two-hundred and five children a day is just too many.

So. Whadaya say?


four for the fruit fly

The darling, most accomodating Queen A (shout out!) has tagged me. I mean, for real, he tagged me. With a flick and everything. Ouch, by the way.

Four jobs I've had:

  • penny candy counter - yes, penny candy, yes, I'm goat old
  • office manager - most annoying job ever
  • personal assistant - fun until the dude decided "personal" meant, well, personal
  • editor - most amazing job ever

Four movies I could watch over and over:

  • Titanic - two words...Kate Winslet
  • The Money Pit - bad movie, great laughs
  • Back to the Future
  • Big

Four places I've lived:

  • Quiet Village
  • Quiet Village Not

yeah, yeah, I see the four but what can I tell you? I'm pretty well rooted here.

Four TV shows I love:

  • The West Wing
  • Project Runway
  • ER
  • Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Four places I've vacationed:

  • Puerto Rico - amazing, beautiful, spectacular, GO
  • London - I am so moving there
  • Disney World - I am so not moving there
  • Bermuda - just lovely and calm

My four favorite dishes:

  • curried chicken and veggies with naan
  • swordfish grilled with lime and pepper, dill roasted red potatos
  • cheeseburger, fries and Sam Adams Summer Ale
  • Lemony's Mum's grilled chicken salad with roasted peppers and walnuts - diVINE

Four websites I visit daily:

  • MSNBC - easy navigation and great political blogs
  • Local
  • The Superficial
  • my home page

Four places I'd rather be:

  • at the beach
  • at the library
  • at a baseball game
  • sleeping

Four people I'm tagging:

And, you know, anybody else who wants to do it. Except for Queen A (shout out!) because damn, darlin', you flicked me hard.


you want me to what??!?!?

Sick. We're sick. And I don't mean the kind of sick you nurse with a giant mug of tea and a box of tissues, either. Oh, no. Nothing pansy-ass like a cold or inflamed lymph nodes for us, man. We're Lemons. We're bitter and strong. We take our sickness like men!

I want my mommy.

It all started innocently enough about 3 weeks ago when Lemony Brother woke up one morning complaining that his stomach hurt. I was about to question the nature of the stomach pain when the kid ran to the bathroom.

"Oh, that kind of stomach pain."

The poor child continued to heave and retch for the next 4 hours or so, but then it was over and he wanted to eat a cheeseburger.

"A cheeseburger?"

"Um, yeah. With pickles and mustard."

"Um, no...here...have a cracker."


Suck it up kid. Life is full of unpleasantries like eating crackers. I mean, duh...it's life. Hello? Who promised you a cheeseburger parade?

End of the story...until 12 hours later when Lemony Child started having the exact same stomach pain. Another 16 hours and Lemony Teen was whinging loudly about gastrointestinal distress. It wasn't pleasant, but it was quick, and soon, with the help of a can of Lysol and a box of Clorox wipes, the dastardly bug was banished.

Or so we thought.

Turns out the bastard had other plans.

I woke up on a Thursday morning. Nothing unusual, really, since I wake up every Thursday morning. As I debated my exercise regimen of the day - walk the dog? elliptical machine and put the dog outside in the yard? yoga and wrestle the dog off me? sleep? - I realized something...it was dark. Not early-morning, the-sun-is-thisclose-being-here-dark, but what-the-hell-time-is-it? dark. As I squinted in the direction of the clock I realized something else...my stomach hurt.

Yes, that kind of hurt.

Let's just say I didn't have a pleasant day and when it was over, unlike Lemony Brother, I did not want a cheeseburger.

Friday was okay. Not great, but I functioned at a high enough level to earn my keep and prevent anarchy. I made it to the point where all I had left to do was get the Lemonettes settled into bed. With visions of the couch, a jar of Pepto, and four hours worth of Project Runway on the TiVo, I tossed Lemony Child into the shower and Lemony Mutt into the family room...

...and then...

"Mum, my stomach hurts."

Yes, that kind of hurt.

And so it went, one after the other, the Lemonettes, Mr. Lemony, me...all of us, taking turns, trading off, feeling okay one day and dreadful the next. The pain was unbearable. The whinging was even worse. On and on it went, until finally I had had enough.

"UNCLE!" I shrieked at the next person who had the misfortune of spewing within my line of vision. "I can't TAKE IT! This is NOT NORMAL! This is not a virus! This is a MUTANT ALIEN STRAIN OF SOMETHING!"

I called the doctor. I explained our situation. Okay, fine, I cried and sobbed and begged for mercy. I admit it. Are you happy?

"So, Lemony, I'm thinking maybe you people don't have a virus. I'm thinking maybe you have a parasitic infection. What I need you to do is bring a stool sample to the lab..."

No, he wasn't kidding.

"What you need to do is put saran wrap on the bowl, under the lid, but make sure it's got some give to it...and then...well, dump it into some Tupperware or something. We only need about a tablespoon."

Oh, no, he so wasn't kidding.

Needless to say I won't be using that Tupperware container for salad dressing ever again.

And so we wait while the lab cultures and tries to multiply whatever mutant alien strain of something has decided living with the Lemonys is great fun.

Until then? We pretend nobody deposited a sample in the salad dressing container and imagine a world where people can actually consume things created with cheese.

Forget about weapons of mass destruction...all anybody needs to do is harness this mutant alien strain of something and the earth? She is doomed.